Tonight is not the night for fights

[baratiesbest]

Who: Sanji baratiesbest and Zoro threesword
Where: Northern Lights
When: Nov 19, late night.
Rating: PG13-ish for ust pirates
Summary: Two pirates meet in a bar. Awkwardness ensues.

the log:
Say what you will about Sanji but if there was one thing he was an expert at it was to keep himself occupied. Whenever life got too stressful and he needed to clear his head he

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[baratiesbest]

"...yeah. I know. Shit."

The fact that he didn't snap at that insult was more worrying than he'd ever imagined and he frowned at his own lack of reaction. Since when was he such a coward? Say what you will about the blond but he was in general a very brave man - a little too brave for his own good at times - and yet something simple as this left him petrified, insides squirming with restrained anxiety. Some of it could possibly be blamed on this not-so-new set of emotions but most of all he was just plain scared.They were so far in over their heads and the fact that Zoro was the one taking charge came as a blessing for once because the cook couldn't make sense of this no matter how he tried.

He really didn't know what to do.

Sanji lowered his voice even further, held it just barely above a whisper. He was fully aware how this would sound but it was a lot better to keep up the current theme of awkwardness than raise his voice and risk someone overhearing their conversation.

"Your place then..? Or..."

He paused, swallowed hard. Fuck, what the hell were they even doing? They needed to talk it over, that much he had to admit to, but at the same time... a disaster would be pretty damn nice right about now if only so they didn't have to deal with this just yet. It was bad enough in the company of others, who knew how much worse it could get on their own? In Zoro's apartment nonetheless? Where---

But that was their best bet after all. Somewhere private, secluded. They'd just talk it over, come to a solution and then he'd leave and everything would go back to normal.

"...just give me ten minutes to close up."

[threesword]

Even Zoro had been surprised at the lack of reaction from Sanji. He'd hoped interjecting a little bit of normalcy into the conversation would begin to steer things in the right direction. But the swordsman was no conversationalist and he was definitely the last person who could successfully steer a conversation. But admittedly, he felt a bit deflated from the lack of reaction.

It was a signal. A sign of just how bad things were. How completely consumed they were - by both the feelings and the fear.

The tone of his voice at that whisper caused the hair on the back of Zoro's neck to stand completely straight. Again, a less than ideal thought overtook his brain for a moment, forcing him to shudder in the attempt to make it leave. There was something completely terrifying about having the cook be in his apartment. It had happened so many times before. But now... with what was happening? Zoro was finding himself barely able to control and resist his own thoughts. Being alone... there...?

No.

No. Nothing would happen. It couldn't. He would force it out of his head however possible, even if it meant smashing his head against the wall.

But there were still no other viable options. Those rooms were like a safehaven - anywhere else in the city, it was possible someone would show up. Overhear. Anything. Things that couldn't happen along with the thoughts that plagued him.

He leaned forward slightly, nodding his head. "Yeah. I'll wait."

[baratiesbest]

It felt like they were about to make a huge mistake but at this point their options were limited. Staying here didn't work even if they would retreat to the back - too much people, too suspicious not to mention all the usually pleasant associations the cook had with the back rooms of the Lights would make the conversation even more awkward. Gohl wasn't a possibility either with the lack of privacy and staying outside at this hour was like begging to be interrupted by a monster or two.

No. This really was their only option. He repeated his conviction - just talk, come up with a solution, get the fuck out of there. No problem.

He gave the other a short nod, pushed himself off the counter. It was a relatively slow night, no one would blame him if he ducked out at this hour - hell, he'd be surprised if anyone even noticed. So with that he went to get his jacket, said goodnight to what remained of the staff and headed back out to the bar.

"Let's go."

Cool, casual... and freaked out of his mind. No, there was no way this could end well.

[threesword]

He'd waited quietly, stuffing the ship plans in his pocket as he waited. He tried to remain collected - only mildly successful. Someone who didn't know him may not have noticed his demeanor being any different, but those who did would have immediately noticed. He couldn't push the thoughts out of his head, the tense whisper of "Your place?" playing back in his mind in an unstoppable loop that would completely drive him to insanity if it kept up.

Zoro felt the way his heart actually skipped a beat - or so it felt like - as Sanji re-emerged. He shoved his hands in his pockets, giving the other a nod. The quicker they got away, the better. At least in some regards.

But he was more terrified of what could actually happen when they were alone if they weren't careful. This was going to bad. No matter what the conclusion was, or what was said... or done. He could barely believe it, but his entire body was in a slight tremble. The swordsman felt like a shell of the man he usually was. What the fuck was happening to him? And why was this completely breaking him down?

He didn't make eye contact. He couldn't. His eyes made a glance at the door and he gave his head a nod.

"Yeah." He paused. "The sooner this is over, the fucking better."

[baratiesbest]

It was impossible to not notice how tense the swordsman was and that in itself was a bad sign - he had an almost inhuman ability to stay calm even in stressful situations despite his short temper and to see him worked up like this... not good. Not good at all.

The cook remained silent, tried to keep his mind as clear as possible. Focused on keeping his breathing calm, tried to slow down his racing heart, counted the footsteps as they made their way over to Marshall. Anything to keep his head from spinning.

One thing you learned as a pirate on the Grand Line was that the impossible happened every day. Sailing up mountains, hunting dinosaurs, watching cherry blossoms cover the night sky of a harsh winter island, sail your ship right up into the sky where Gods and angels resided... all impossible things that still happened. He had been there, seen it all with his own eyes and that alone made it possible for him to believe in other impossibilies. All Blue. One Piece. Things that might not even exist but most certainly did because that was the way the Grand Line worked.

But this. This he couldn't believe. He hadn't even begun to process what this meant for him personally, how much he had to re-evaluate who he thought he was and hopefully he'd never have to because if this was impossible to believe then how would he ever be able to accept it in an even larger sense?

Sanji's pulse quickened as the Marshall apartment complex came into view and he fell back a little, let the swordsman take the lead. Just get it over with. Keep it professional. Treat this like they would treat any other battle plan and they'd come out of it without a scratch.

[threesword]

On the surface, that was all Zoro wanted. Logically, they would go to the apartment, pour some sake, and figure it out. Decide on a plan, however shitty it may be. Sanji would leave, and that would be it. They'd go in with their lives and put whatever this was behind them. They'd go back to their shitty Discedo lives. Working the bar, hunting, planning to get the hell out of there, sparring... and then spending their time with Umi.

That was logically.

Realistically, Zoro didn't know what would happen, and that completely bewildered him. He knew that beneath what his logical mindframe told him, there was far more to it. The things he was thinking... they were far beyond any thought that had ever passed through his head. Heat. Body heat and closeness and... all the things he'd never imagined craving. But underneath the farce, he found himself aching for it in the worst way.

And that just couldn't fucking happen.

It was quiet. Too quiet as they walked. Zoro wanted a drink, probably just as badly, if not more so than how much Sanji wanted a cigarette. Zoro knew that. And he knew that desire wasn't helping either of them in this case.

He felt his stomach rising into his throat as Marshall came to view. For a brief moment, he hesitated. There was no turning back from this moment, and whatever was going to come of it - though he was going to do whatever the hell was in his power to not give in to whatever the hell his body was trying to trick him with. Taking the lead, he forged forward, going into the building and heading towards the room that had become 'home.'

[baratiesbest]

The blond followed in Zoro's steps, quiet, eyes on the floor. It felt like an execution, each step bringing them a little closer to their doom, heart sinking a little further with each passing second. Melodramatic thinking maybe but it didn't make it any less true. None of them knew what would happen as soon as they entered that apartment but one thing was certain - something would die tonight. A possibility, a friendship, a fragile brotherly bond; whatever it was something was going to change and where there was change there was also a symbolic death. One door closes and another opens.

At the same time he felt strangely... excited. His nerves were tingling, vibrating just like they had been when he woke up in Discedo the second time. Must be his pirate upbringing, the lust for adventure that coarsed through his veins like adrenaline. It was a nauseating mix, that dread coupled with something akin to delerious excitement. He really didn't like it.

He remained quiet as they made their way up the stairs, down the corridor, into the dark apartment. Shifted his weight a little, restless. Tried to think of something to say, an opening line, something to get the ball rolling but in the end he drew a blank. This was really too bizarre for him to grasp, which said something about the nature of the situation. Sanji, the great romantic who could never shut up about the matters of the heart, shocked into complete silence. It was sad, really.

[threesword]

The silence was completely deafening, but he couldn't find any words - especially not when they still weren't somewhere more secluded. Words... they weren't going to happen, so instead to trying to search for them he remained silent. So much felt lost on him right then anyway.

In that same silence, he stopped in front of the door to the apartment. And without a word, he quietly opened the door. He didn't hold the door open - Sanji would undoubtedly follow behind anyway. There was no hesitation as he headed towards the kitchen and pulled the half-empty bottle of sake from the cabinet.

Until then, he'd been trying to be civilized. Rationing the drink with glasses. Tonight was not going to be one of those nights though. The pressure that weighed him down was overbearing, and he needed something, anything to help relieve that. Something that didn't involve the corrupt thoughts in his head.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, pursing his lips and bringing the bottle to them. His eyes closed, and he held the bottle out. He knew Sanji was there, and it was his call whether or not he wanted any.

[baratiesbest]

He tensed up as soon as they entered the apartment, closed the door behind him with a surprisingly loud click before following Zoro to the kitchen. His eyes were still on the ground and he made sure to keep some distance between them - don't make a move, keep this clean. Detached. Being back here once more made his thoughts spin back to the last time he had spent the night, those few seconds when the whole world was frozen. Something that now, in retrospect, seemed so much bigger than it had been back then.

And then that bottle was held out towards him and he couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the offer - in part because adding alcohol to the mix would be like trying to put out a fire with a barrel of oil and in part because he honestly didn't think the swordsman would have any left. Oh, he recognized that bottle alright.

Drinking had been a bad idea back at the bar and it was a terrible idea here but even so he accepted the offer after a moments hesitation, took a mouthful before handing it back. Just this would be alright, wouldn't it? Just enough to numb his senses, loosen his tongue.

"When..?"

Vague, but he was sure that the other man would be able to decipher that half-question. How long had this shit been going on?

[threesword]

His eyes had opened just enough to catch when the bottle was being handed back to him, and he didn't hesitate in grabbing it. There was not enough liquor in the world - this world, their world, any world - to deal with a situation like this one.

Either way, Sanji's assessment had been right. Zoro had fully understood what his question meant. Hell, it was the same questions he'd been asking himself for days now. In between his bouts of denial, he'd come to realize that he didn't quite know the answer himself.

With a shrug, he'd brought the bottle to his lips again, taking another swig of the strong liquor and shrugging his shoulders. When he pulled the bottle away, his eyes opened. For an extremely brief moment, they studied Sanji's face; it was poorly illuminated in the dark room... but somehow still captivating all the same.

As he caught his own thoughts, he averted his eyes, looking down at his own scuffed boots. His shoulders shrugged again half-heartedly.

"Tch... don't know. A couple of weeks at least."

[baratiesbest]

"Hn."

Short nod of acknowledgment. A few weeks... yeah, that sounded about right. The actual starting point was probably a lot earlier than that but if he had to make a guess as to when they actually started to get in trouble that would be it. Probably sometime after his second revival.

Shifting his weight again Sanji leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest. Okay. They were talking. That was as good a start as any, now they just had to... figure this shit out.

"We can't--"

He stopped himself - who was he trying to convince here? Himself or the swordsman? This wasn't anything they needed to say, it had already been clearly established. Agreed on. So why was he hesitating? All they needed to do was figure out the how, not the why. He sighed, brought up a hand to rub at his forehead.

"So how are we supposed to solve this shit?"

[threesword]

There was the loaded question. The one he sure as hell didn't have any kind of viable answer to. A thoughtful silence came of Zoro, contemplating his words. He placed the bottle of sake on the counter before jumping up to sit on the worn linoleum counter top. One leg casually stretched out, the bottom of his boot barely making contact with the equally worn stove. The other was pulled up - not quite to his chest, but enough so the bottom of his foot rested flush with the counter.

His arm had draped over his leg, letting his hand rest between his thighs whilst the other ran through his short, green hair. What the fuck was he supposed to say?

Forget it? Last time he'd said that, he ended up making Umi upset. But... that was what Sanji wanted to hear, wasn't it? Based on his body language and his words alone, it was obviously what he wanted. Or at least, it was the impression he was trying to give off. And Zoro saw through it... which was only making this more difficult for him.

Despite what his body was telling him, and what his heart was screaming, he offered a shrug. There was only one answer he could give.

"Either we forget any of this is happening," He paused. His tone sounded mildly dejected at the thought. Giving up.. it was so unlike both of them. It wasn't the way of a Straw Hat. "Or we figure out some other way to deal with it."

[baratiesbest]

The cook let that hand drop back to its original position, gaze slowly turning towards the other as he hopped up on the counter. For a moment he got caught tracing those limbs, watched how his muscles relaxed and tensed up with the way he moved, the angle of his arm... and then he quickly averted his eyes back down, let his hair fall like a curtain infront of his face. Shit. What the hell was he doing, getting caught up like this? It wasn't like him and it was fucking creepy to boot. Lucky for him the room was dark and the chance of Zoro spotting the faint flush that currently adorned the cooks cheeks was slim at best.

"Forgetting it... that's not a damn option, marimo."

No, they couldn't do that as much as they might like to. It didn't work that way, never had. It always came back to bite them in the ass in the end.

"Just have to deal with it, I guess. Fuck if I know how though."

He shifted his weight again, tried to shake the feeling of discomfort that near threatened to suffocate him. They had to think of something and fast - every second spent in this dark, empty apartment just made it that much more difficult to think straight.

[threesword]

He hadn't caught the gaze, at least not directly. But he had been able to feel the pair of eyes on him. But not looking himself... not trying to catch the act as it happened made it easier to ignore. To pretend it wasn't happening.

Even if it was. Even if his body had relaxed ever so slightly, it was still above it's norm. Hypersensitive to everything. The hand that had been in his hair found its way to the bottle once more. So much for making this sake last. The liquor may be the only way to relax.

He felt pale and sick. Nervous. Terrified. Frustrated.

Zoro didn't know what the fuck to do and it was eating up his insides.

"Tch. And how the fuck am I supposed to know?" He managed to grumble the words out. Zoro had never been good at affairs of the heart. Hell, he'd been completely inept until a few months before. But the feelings, the capability had been unearthed and now it was completely consuming him. But he didn't know how to actually cope with them. Still, he muttered.
"You're the damn 'expert,' aren't you?"

[baratiesbest]

He scoffed, brought a hand up to ruffle his hair. The expert? On this? Hell, there was a huge difference between spending every waking moment chasing women and... this. Did the swordsman really not differentiate between the two?

"Oi, I'm just as fucking lost as you are. It's not like I've done this shit before."

'This shit' encompassed a lot of things. Feeling this way towards a man was one of them, elaborated in 'feeling this way towards the shitty marimo'. Not following his emotions and instincts was another first for the cook, usually he just threw caution to the wind and went with whatever he wanted. So to actually sit down and discuss this, try and find a way out of it... no, he couldn't say that he had done this before. No expertize to draw from there, no experience he could apply.

And then a thought occurred to him. Maybe... this wasn't so complicated after all. Maybe they were reading too much into this. They couldn't forget about it and trying to ignore it wasn't a solution either - but what if they didn't do either of those things? That didn't necessarily mean that anything would come from it.

It was a risky gamble and he was far from sure of himself but it was this or stay in Zoro's kitchen for the rest of their lives.

"You know. We could..."

He made a vague gesture with his hand, like he was trying to find the right words. The fact that he was even suggesting this in the first place just proved how far gone they really were and how desperate the blond was to find a way out. He swallowed, prayed to whatever god that would hear him that Zoro wouldn't take this the wrong way.

"...get it out of our system. Maybe it's just... a thing. A fix idea."

[threesword]

Zoro almost dropped the bottle of sake at the suggestion. His hand gripped the neck of the bottle tightly as he froze. After a brief moment, he managed to place it back on the counter. His arm shifted, now allowing both hands to hang between his thighs.

Leaning forward, he contemplated the idea. It was terrifying. The thought of them... doing that. Of doing anything that wasn't beating the hell out of each other. It was strange, even more so as the realization began to hit that Sanji, of all people, was the one suggesting it.

He still didn't look up, his eyes focused on his hands. In the dim light, he could see they were trembling. More so than his shoulders were.

And then it hit him. There was only one thing at that exact moment in time more terrifying than the idea of 'getting it out of their system.'

He wanted it. His body yearned for the contact. Ached for the sensation of touch. For the hot breath to make its way to his neck. His head was screaming no, but his heart was telling him there was something so right about it. There was no denying what this was, and suppressing it... it could ruin them. All of it. And not just between them, but the rest of the crew, and Umi as well. Zoro and Sanji needed to be able to get along in whatever fucked up way they did, and that couldn't change. Over the course of time, their... relationship had evolved, but it still retained all the things that mattered. They'd started as rivals, but even as things changed, they never lost that.

It was fading quickly in this unsurity. But maybe.... just maybe, they could fix things yet. Maybe seeing where it took them wouldn't be a terrible idea.

"Tch," It was was all he was able to sputter out for a moment. He could feel his face turning red - it was fortunate the room was dark. But after a moment he looked up, barely making eye contact with the cook. "Either that or nothing at all... and like hell that's gonna work."